The Company of Himself
by Iamprettyodd
Summary: Warning: Thor The Dark World spoilers. This is what I pictured what was going through Loki's head after he was told about his mothers death while he is confined to his cell. It's kind of sporadic and random, but I always pictured him thinking like that. Contains major Loki angst.


_Crash_

How long had it been?

Loki counted a week. No more, no less. Seven days even.

It had been seven days since he had heard the news about his mother's death. The only person whom he had loved and had loved him back. Gone. No longer there to tell him that everything would be fine. No longer there to comfort him. And soon, she would be nothing more than a faint memory in his mind. How could Thor possibly let this happen? He had left his own mother to die.

And to make matters worse, Loki remembered their last real encounter. She looked upon him with a foreign gaze, as if the person she once knew was lost in a realm where only greed and anger coincided with each other. He remembered her expression, something like hurt and confusion etched into every angle of her body.

_Smash_

No. It wasn't that. It was something bigger than that, something that Loki hoped never to see. It was -_ no, it couldn't have been._ It was disappointment. Her own son, the one she loved and raised herself, was a murderer. A villainous snake. Something no mother could ever be proud of. Why would he ever think his own would make an exception?

_Bang_

In a dull flash of pale green light, she stood in front of him, looking as though she had never even left. His raging denial and anger soon melted into grief. _Mother_?

She spoke to him, her voice as familiar as the sound of rain falling in the early morning hours. It sounded just the way he remembered: the way it would float through the air, and almost like a whisper, it would kiss the hairs on the back of his neck, causing a shudder to run down his spine.

"Loki." She spoke his name and his name only. Her smile was barely prominent, but it was there, enough for him to just see her upper teeth. He felt a rush of warmth spread throughout his body starting from the pit of his stomach and extending to all four of his limbs. All he could do was stare back with his broken-hearted gaze. He didn't want anything more than to embrace her, to lie his chin on her shoulder, to breathe in the sweet scent of her golden blonde hair. He wanted nothing more than to remember her like this forever. So vividly, so accurately.

But then, her smile faltered. The kind glint in her eyes was replaced by a flame ignited only by betrayal. She stood in the same position she had when she watched Loki being brought in front of Odin after destroying New York. He had remembered this scene all too well.

"Monster," she spoke once more, her voice no longer having the soothing effect on him. Her smile turned down, almost forming something that looked like a pained grimace. "A disappointment."

He took a step back, crushing the remnants of shattered glass with his bare foot. But no pain came to him. Instead, he stood there, a numbing sensation engulfing his body.

"Where were you? Why didn't you save me?"_ I was locked in here. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't do anything. Where was Odin? He should have protected you. Where was Thor? He should have been with you_.

He took another step back, this time feeling a slight sting on the bottom of his foot. _I couldn't do anything._

She let out a bitter laugh, the sound bouncing off the suffocating walls of his cell. "You were never half the son your brother was. You never will be."

_Crash_

Loki closed his eyes, his hands flying up to cover his ears. But her voice was still there, resignating deep in the back of his head. _I couldn't do anything._

"You had gained my trust. This is your fault. You are nothing but a failure. A mistake. An inconvenience."

He willed it to stop. He knew it wasn't her, just another twisted creation born from his twisted mind. Still, he couldn't help but to feel guilty - to feel it boiling in the pit of his stomach._ Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I wasn't there. Please forgive me, mother. Please_?

Then there was silence.

Removing his rigid clutch from his ears, he slowly opened his eyes. Loki apprehensively glanced around the room. Nobody in sight. His cell was empty, but the scene startled him. The chair that used to be in the corner was across the room, splinters of wood littering the ground beneath it. The nightstand was turned over, the lamp only shattered pieces on the ground. The walls were dented and stained with dark scratches while his bed carelessly laid on its side.

He was left with nothing but pain, emotional, but physical as well. His body was tense as he didn't dare move at all. His muscles were knots under his pale skin. Even though he was constantly cold - being born with Jotun blood in his veins - a light sheen of sweat matted strands of his black hair across his forehead. His head throbbed while his ears rang, though it was much better company than his last visitor.

Looking down, Loki noticed a puddle of crimson blood pooling under his foot. It was soon followed by a sharp sting that left him leaning his weight on his uninjured foot. It still amazed him that someone like himself could still bleed, could still feel. He didn't want to feel.

He hadn't realized he was crying until he saw drops of tears diluting the trail blood he had left behind._ It's my fault she's dead. I wasn't there. I couldn't do anything. I should have saved her. How could I have? It's my fault. I'm sorry, so sorry._

He lowered himself to the ground, ignoring his screaming muscles, and leaned his back against the white cell wall. _It's my fault._ He slammed his head back against the wall, the pain disappearing for a few seconds before returning, this time much more prominent._ I'm a disappointment_. He threw his head back once again, causing the small mirror on the adjacent wall to fall from its nail and shatter into pieces, making its home along with the other broken furniture. _I couldn't do anything. _

_But I can make it right. I can fix this_.

Once again, rage consumed the thoughts that were eating away at his brain. He replayed one word over and over again in his head, until it sounded foreign, like it never should have existed. It was something he knew all too well.

_Revenge_.


End file.
